


The Agreement

by infiniteeight



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Get Together, Humor, Just Roll With It, M/M, set in some weird amalgamation of various DC canons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 23:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16628312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteeight/pseuds/infiniteeight
Summary: After Barry comes to Trickster's defence when Batman gets rough in an interrogation, the League has a lot of questions. The more Barry explains, the more becomes clear about his unusual relationship with his Rogues, and Leonard Snart in particular.(Set in some weird amalgamation of DC canon that shouldn't matter, except that Len isn't dead and Barry isn't with Iris and it's set a few years in the future.)(Inspired by this moment from the animated series, although I made a few changes so you don't need to actually see it: https://sweaterkittensahoy.tumblr.com/post/163059675798/sherlockisntgay-very-heartwarming-moment-really)





	The Agreement

Most, of the time, being a part of the Justice League was awesome. Having a group of heroes with that kind of power level on call for threats like Zoom was the kind of safety net that let Barry sleep at night. Plus, they understood parts of being a superhero that his other friends never could, no matter how hard they tried. 

But sometimes that Barry felt like _he_ was the alien in the room, not Clark.

“Trickster isn’t a supervillain,” Barry said, for what felt like the hundredth time. “He’s a Rogue.”

“The semantics aren’t important,” Batman growled. The growling was a bad sign--when they were in private, just the League, he spoke like a normal person unless he was frustrated. “What’s important is that you go too easy on them. Fear is half the deterrent with villains.”

Barry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t Batman--even the actual supervillains were rarely afraid of him. “I can’t believe you’re all chewing me out for encouraging someone to go to therapy instead of prison,” he said, looking around at Clark, Diana, Hal, and Arthur. “I get it, coming from Bruce. Arkham doesn’t exactly encourage faith in the effectiveness of mental health treatment. But you four?”

They traded uncomfortable looks. “It’s not that we don’t want him to get treatment,” Clark said. “But you interrupted Batman in the middle of an interrogation, and you took Trickster’s side. That looks bad.”

“It wasn’t an interrogation, it was a beating,” Barry snapped. “And I don’t get why helping out Axel is such a problem _now_.”

“Now?” Hal asked sharply. “You’ve done this before?”

Barry frowned, confused. “The Rogues and I have had an agreement for years,” he said. “You know that.”

Except maybe they didn’t, because now all of them were looking even more alarmed and Batman--it didn’t matter that Barry knew his name, if Bruce had the cowl up Barry could only think of him at Batman--was verging on murderous. Fortunately, Diana shot him a look and took the lead instead. “I think you had better explain this agreement. In detail.”

“Fine,” Barry sighed. “At least this explains why you never seem to get it when I tell you someone is a Rogue and not a supervillain. So here’s how it works: Central City has a lot of metahumans. And I mean _a lot_. Hundreds. Some of them are real villains, horrible people. Some of them are otherwise totally ordinary people. But there’s a whole spectrum in the middle, right?”

Barry paused and waited for them to nod that they were with him. After a minute, they did, so he went on. “Right. And not all of those in-between metas are going to be willing or able to live honest lives. Most of those would work on their own, and I used to spend every spare second taking them down one by one. I had no life, and I was always exhausted when a really big threat came up.” He grimaced, remembering those days. “I made some awful judgment calls because I was too burnt out to think straight. But the ones that _weren’t_ independent were even worse, because then we had _mob wars_ with powers involved.” That got Barry a sympathetic look from Clark; Luthor loved using powered criminals like that. 

Encouraged, Barry forged onwards. “The Rogues changed all that. It started with Captain Cold. Some stuff happened--” now was not the time to mention that Len knew his identity “--and we ended up making a deal. He wasn’t willing to stop stealing, and I wasn’t willing to just let him take what he wanted, but we agreed that if he made sure no one got hurt, I wouldn’t chase him unless the job was actually in progress.”

“If you let him go,” Batman said, “then you’re complicit in all of his crimes after that.”

Barry did roll his eyes this time. “I never _let_ him get away. But if he got away on his own, then I didn’t keep looking.” Maybe he didn’t try all that hard during the job, either, but that was his call, not in the deal, and Batman didn’t need to know anyway. 

“You said it _started_ there,” Arthur prompted.

Barry nodded his thanks and went on. “Well, Cold normally works with a crew. And some metas make great thieves, so of course he was going to recruit them. But if he wanted our agreement to hold up, everyone on his crew had to stick to it, too. It didn’t take long before the less… law abiding metas noticed that the ones who worked with Cold ended up in Iron Heights a lot less often than the ones that didn’t.”

“Because you’re going easy on them!” Batman snapped.

“And it didn’t take _me_ long to notice that the collateral damage had gone way down!” Barry shot back. “Fewer people hurt! Few businesses ruined! Hell, fewer ordinary assaults and accidents because I had more time and energy to help out!”

“And you think that balances out the harm these so-called Rogues do?” Batman scoffed.

“Do you think I didn’t worry about that?” Barry asked. “I checked. Gideon?”

Four holographic charts shimmered into life between the heroes. “These charts display property damage directly attributable to combat involving The Flash, Batman, Superman, and Green Lantern in Central City, Gotham, Metropolis, and Coast City, respectively,” the AI’s smooth voice announced. “I have controlled for demographic factors including population density and income. I have also added a handicap factor to The Flash’s chart to account for the inherently less destructive nature of his abilities.”

The charts didn’t take much interpreting. All of them started out reasonably low and then steadily climbed upwards before more or less levelling out. Barry’s mirrored the pattern in the others for the first two years. After that there was a sharp drop, occurring over the span of a few months, before it leveled out again, noticeably lower than the others. Noticeably, but not dramatically. At least not at first glance.

“The difference isn’t that big,” Batman said, but he sounded subdued nevertheless.

“Note the units on the vertical axis,” Gideon advised serenely.

Barry’s chart was in tens of thousands of dollars. The other three were in the hundreds of thousands.

“Oh my,” Diana murmured.

“Show them the casualty charts,” Barry ordered.

The display flickered. The data was much spikier this time. Deaths tended to cluster around major events, but despite that Barry’s chart was obviously better than the others. Clark made a distressed noise, looking at the heartlessly documented loss of life in his city.

“Clark,” Barry said gently, “you’ve saved, God, millions more people than I ever could. You operate all over the world, not just in Metropolis. “I’m not showing you this” he waved his hand at the data, “to prove you’re doing something wrong. It’s to prove that, _yes_ , Bruce, the harm the Rogues do is absolutely worth the end result.”

Diana sighed. “You can’t change human nature. You’re right, there are always going to be criminals out there. This does seem to work, but…”

“It’s a little like saying that organized crime is better than street crime,” Hal finished. “And that attitude leads to corruption.”

“Only if I stop fighting them,” Barry said. “Only if I don’t bother going after the Rogues altogether. But I do. Always. Hell,” Barry laughed, “it’s part of the deal.”

Arthur’s eyebrows went up. “They _want_ you fight them?”

“That’s not in the agreement you described,” Batman said.

“It’s evolved since then. These days, the rules go like this: The Rogues don’t kill, deal in drugs, or take jobs for the mob. Family members and secret identities are completely off limits to both them and me and my team. Someone can’t join the Rogues until they’ve established a unique gimmick, received a name from Cisco--that’s Vibe, in case you didn’t know--and gone up against the Flash and won. I get one membership veto each year,” Batman stiffened, clearly startled, “but if I don’t veto someone when they first join, then I can’t veto them later. If I do veto them, then that’s a lifetime ban unless I revoke it.” Barry paused and looked at each of them. “I’d like to note that in five years I’ve used my veto exactly once.”

“And your part of the deal?” Clark asked.

“I don’t kill the Rogues or,” Barry knew this part wasn’t going to go over well, “try to take their powers away.” Oh yeah, that got some scowls. Barry hurried on. “I always show up when a Rogue pulls a job. Apparently it’s a prestige thing? I have to tell them in advance if I’m otherwise occupied with a big threat so that they can wait for a better moment.” Barry smiled wryly, “That one’s supposed to be for them, but honestly, it works for me as well because it means that I can concentrate on the big threat.

“Anyway, when they do pull a job, I stop chasing them when they pass a two block radius, if they’re on foot, or a ten block radius, if they’re in a vehicle. Or flying or teleporting or whatever.” Barry ran through it mentally. The agreement was so second nature these days he didn’t think much about it. “I think that’s it.”

“You inform them in advance if you’re otherwise occupied,” Batman said flatly.

“Yeah.”

“And how do you know that they aren’t pulling much _quieter_ jobs during that time?”

“Jesus, you’re suspicious,” Barry huffed. “Look, Len keeps them on a tight leash, okay? He wouldn’t let that happen.”

Silence. 

Barry frowned. “What?”

“Len?” Hal asked.

Oh. Shit. 

“Leonard Snart,” Batman said. Coldly. Barry resisted the urge to snicker. Not the time. Not the time.

“Um. Yeah. Captain Cold.”

“Whom you apparently call by a rather familiar nickname,” Diana said. 

Barry ran a hand over his face. This was ridiculous. “Look, let me call him, and you’ll see that we’re _both_ acting in good faith, okay?”

“You can just call him up?” Arthur asked.

“How did you think I let the Rogues know when I was busy?” Barry asked. “Or asked them for help when one of the really world-ending types ended up in Central? Or did you think that the times they’ve showed up to fights like that was a big coincidence?” From the looks the rest of the League traded, they had.

“Call him,” Batman said suddenly.

Barry frowned. “You’re not using this phone call to track him down and lock him up.”

“If you’re right, after this phone call I won’t want to.”

Barry hesitated but… well, if Batman locked up Len, Barry would just break him out again. That wasn’t in their agreement, but if it was his fault it was only fair. “Okay.” Barry knew that the others were expecting him to use his comms or the Justice League systems, but Len didn’t like going through either of those. Instead Barry pulled out a cheap burner phone--this suit had pockets--and hit the speed dial and the speakerphone. “Len,” Barry said as soon as it connected. “You’re on speaker.”

There was a pause. “And who am I on speaker with?” Len’s sardonic tones seemed loud in the Justice League headquarters.

“Um. The Justice League?” Barry said. 

“The Justice League.” Len’s voice was flat. He was going to kill Barry for this. “One of whom roughed up Trickster earlier _today_ , Flash.”

Barry winced. Of course Len was in a bad mood. “This is about that,” he said quickly. “Look, I was explaining to Batman why the Rogues are different from supervillains and he was having a hard time believing that it works for both of us and that you wouldn’t do anything to put it at risk and I thought if I called you maybe he’d get it.”

Len sighed and Barry relaxed. That was Len’s exasperated, why are you always so optimistic sigh. “How many times have I told you you think too highly of people, B--. Flash.”

Barry debated for an instant, but Len knowing his identity could only speak well of him, right? “It’s okay, Len,” he said. “They know my identity.”

“Jesus, Barry!” Len snapped. “Is there anyone you _haven’t_ told?”

“I trust them!”

“You trust everyone! It’s going to get you killed one day!”

“We’re getting a little off topic here,” Barry said, shooting the League an apologetic glance. “I’m trying to convince the League that the Rogues don’t need to be hunted down.”

“I could give a flying fuck what the Justice League thinks of the Rogues,” Len snapped. “We can take care of ourselves. I’m worried about you and your compulsive need to tell everyone you meet your so-called secret identity. Someday someone is going to use that against you and you’ll end up dead and then where will I be?” 

Len really sounded upset -- worried. Barry couldn’t help softening. “I’m fine, Len. I’ve always done things my way and I’ve always made it through, haven’t I?”

“Sometimes despite yourself,” Len sighed. “But yes.”

“And if I recall correctly, you told me yourself that I shouldn’t change,” Barry ventured to tease.

“I said you should stay a hero, that’s not the same thing,” Len replied automatically.

“Close enough.”

“You’re going to hold that over me for the rest of my life, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Barry said, grinning. “But you were right.”

“Now I wish I was recording this phone call,” Len said dryly.

Barry laughed. “Yeah, well, I was right about you, too.”

“I’m still one of the bad guys, Barry.” 

Barry rolled his eyes but knew that arguing wouldn’t get him anywhere. Len liked his reputation. “But not _all_ bad.”

“If you say so,” was all Len allowed, grudging. 

“Could I get something a little more reassuring for the peanut gallery?”

Len paused and Barry wondered if the man had actually forgotten he was on speaker. Surely not. Len never forgot things like that. Still, when he spoke again, it was in his ‘Cold’ voice. “I’ll give you this much: Everyone I care about and everything I enjoy depends on my agreement with the Flash remaining in good standing. I won’t let anything, including the Rogues and certainly including _you_ ,” and that clearly meant the League, “threaten that.”

Not quite the reassurance Barry had been angling for, but, well… it was just like Len. Barry couldn’t help feeling warmed. He looked around at the League. They were giving him some weird looks, but Batman nodded slightly so apparently it was okay? “Thanks, Len.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Barry.”

Right, the museum heist. “Morning or evening?”

Len laughed. “I’m not going to make it that easy. You can wait for Cisco’s alert.”

“Worth a try,” Barry said, shrugging. “Thursday, then.” They hung up and Barry looked up at the League. “So. You get it?” he asked hopefully.

“Barry,” Diana said, “that man is in love with you.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I think I agree with Diana,” Arthur said slowly. “Captain Cold is definitely in love with you.”

Barry stared at them. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It would explain why he’s invested in this agreement of yours,” Batman allowed grudgingly.

Somehow hearing _Batman_ agree that Len was in love with him made it seem much more real. Hope bloomed in Barry’s chest. “If he really… feels like that about me,” Barry ventured, “why wouldn’t he have said anything? We’ve known each other for years.”

“Sometimes that makes it harder,” Clark said quietly. “It means you have more to lose. Plus, the longer you go without saying something, the easier it is to convince yourself that the other person would have said something if they loved you.” 

Barry’s mind was racing. “That makes a lot of sense.” And Clark’s comment applied to Barry just as much as it did to Len. Barry had been so sure that Len wasn’t interested, but if the _League_ thought that he was after hearing just one phone call, then maybe Barry was wrong. Maybe he did have a chance. “I’ve got to go,” Barry said quickly. “See you next meeting!” He flashed out of the room before anyone could argue. 

He didn’t know where Len was staying right now, but it wouldn’t take him long to check the usual haunts.

*

The League blinked and found Barry gone, lightning quickly dissipating in his wake.

“I think this meeting may have backfired,” Hal said.

Batman grunted. “If Cold breaks his heart, maybe he’ll stop going too easy on them.”

Clark just laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

*

Barry found Len at just the third safehouse he checked. As an added bonus, this one was a real, if run down, apartment that Len used for himself but not for the Rogues. 

Len was sitting at the kitchen table, working on the cold gun. He didn’t even look up at the crackle of Barry’s lightening. “How’d the rest of your meeting go?” 

“They think you’re in love with me,” Barry blurted out. Crap. He’d meant to work up to the topic. He’d planned the whole conversation out in his head on the run over. Unfortunately, for a speedster sometimes planning something like that meant that when you got to carrying out the plan, you started in the middle. 

Len went still for a moment.

It was only a split second. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it, much less recognized it as a tell. But Barry wasn’t most people. 

“I’m sure you corrected that assumption,” Len said. He almost sounded bored. He also hadn’t looked up yet.

“I told them it was ridiculous,” Barry said, watching Len closely, but his poker face was too good now that the surprise had passed. “I mean, why would you want _me_? You always have a plan, you always think ahead, and I’m this total…” Barry flailed for a word “ _mess_ of improvisation and patched up mistakes.” Len was looking up at him now, actual surprise showing on his face, and somehow that was encouraging. “Not to mention that the more I asked of you, the less I offered to give back.”

“Barry--”

“And you’re gorgeous,” Barry said helplessly, “and even now I’m this... this _string bean_.” Len stood, stepping up to Barry, who met his gaze. “The idea that you’d want--”

Len’s hands cupped his face and he leaned in and then they were kissing, Len’s mouth soft and hot against Barry’s, his hands steady. Barry’s hands landed on Len’s hips, somehow, but that was good, Len was solid, Barry could lean into him. The kiss went on, beautifully slow. One of Len’s hands slid around to the back of Barry’s neck, the brush of his fingers over the buzzed hair there sending shivers through Barry. 

When the kiss finally ended, Barry opened his mouth to speak and Len stopped him by sliding his thumb over to press against Barry’s lips. Somehow, that simple motion sent a flush of heat through Barry that the kiss hadn’t. 

“Barry,” Len said, voice full of amusement, “only you could somehow convince yourself that the literal superhero in this scenario is the one not capable of inspiring love.”

“You’ve never hesitated to go after what you want,” Barry said. “I spent a lot of time telling myself that if you hadn’t said anything, you must not be interested.” He hesitated, nervous in spite of the kiss. “Why _didn’t_ you say anything?”

The amusement on Len’s face faded and he tried to step back, like he’d remembered that this shouldn’t work even though they’d been kissing a minute ago. Barry tightened his grip on Len’s hips, not letting him go, and waited for him to answer.

“You’ve asked for years for me to be a better man,” Len finally said. “I told myself if I could do it, I’d say something. But it’s just not in my nature.” Normally Len sounded mocking when he rebuffed Barry’s comments about his honor, his goodness. This time he just sounded regretful.

“Len,” Barry said carefully, “I’ve never once asked you to be better.” Len frowned. “I said there _already was_ good in you. I said you _already had_ honor. I haven’t been asking you to be better, I’ve been telling you that you _are better_ than you think you are.”

Len scoffed. “I run a gang of thieves.”

Barry had to laugh. “You realize I just had this conversation ten minutes ago?”

“Are you comparing me to that band of idiots?” Len scowled.

Barry tilted his head. “That depends. Are you going to insist you’re no better than a supervillain, like the League? Or are you going to agree with me, that the Rogues are half the reason this city is still standing, which is the work of a good man?”

“Manipulative,” Len said, smirking. “I like it.” He pulled Barry into another kiss, shorter but no less sweet for it. When they parted, he kept Barry close. “Isn’t it terribly selfish of me to call you mine when you deserve better?” 

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then sure, fine,” Barry said. “How awful. How dare you make us both happy. What a rogue you are.”

As intended, Len snorted a laugh at the word play. “You realize,” he drawled, “that you haven’t actually said the feeling’s mutual.”

Barry raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t actually said how you feel at all.”

Their eyes met for a long moment, and then together they leaned into another kiss.

*

The words came later, the night wrapped protectively around them, their bodies curled together.

“I love you,” Len breathed, so quiet that Barry might have missed it if he wasn’t already trying to glut every sense with Len.

“I love you, too,” Barry whispered back, barely louder not because the words felt dangerous to him, but because they clearly felt that way to Len. 

*

Barry wasn’t trying to rub the League’s nose in the relationship they’d inadvertently prompted, he really wasn’t. He was only beaming and obviously relaxed in the meeting because, at least for the moment, he was _always_ beaming and relaxed. Len was a lot more willing to spend their down time together now that their feelings were out in the open, and the nights were incredible--both the sleeping and the not-sleeping. Not that they’d had a night without not-sleeping just yet. Barry found himself smiling wider at the thought.

“You’re in a good mood,” Clark commented as he took his seat at the table.

Batman, who had glared at Barry as he came in, glared harder.

For once, even Batman’s glare couldn’t dent Barry’s mood. “New relationship,” Barry said happily.

Clark, at least, didn’t look irritated by that. In fact, he perked up. “That reminds me,” he said, pulling his chair a little closer. “Do you think something like the Rogues could work for Metropolis? Luthor is a problem, but I feel like it’s worth trying, given how well it seems to work for you.”

Barry’s mood actually went up a couple notches. He hadn’t thought that was possible. “The real key is finding the right person to spearhead the whole thing,” he said, leaning forward eagerly. “You can’t trust just anyone to lead the group. Len is…” Barry flushed and ducked his head a little. “Well, I think he’s one of a kind, but you probably need something a little different anyway, given Luthor.”

“Not to mention that I’ve already got a romantic partner,” Clark teased.

Barry laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, Batman looked like he was resisting the urge to put his head in his hands. Somehow, that only made Barry laugh harder.

~End~

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is at infiniteeight8.tumblr.com -- I don't really use it, but you're welcome to wander over.


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